She'd talk to boys From the far side of town And in a while One chose her They'd paint her face Bringing gifts for her father And shower her With roses In the early days They used to laugh a lot Now they don't even smile very often And their eyes seldom meet If they can help it Urban tribal The girl don't have an answer to your call Urban tribal She won't feed your babies anymore She was the last in line Ready to be taken for motherhood Hand on Bible Distill the urban tribal From her blood She'll tell it all The confession tonight One prayer for hope One for pardon The early moon And the glow from the powerplant Will light her way Back to (?) In the early days They used to laugh a lot Now they don't even smile very often And their eyes seldom meet If they can help it Urban tribal The girl don't have an answer to your call Urban tribal She won't feed your babies anymore She was the last in line Ready to be taken for motherhood Hand on Bible Distill the urban tribal From her blood